Page 20 of Breaking the Rules
Lawryn: More and always
Midnight on the dot, and every dancer was on the multiple stages spinning, shaking ass, and putting on a show as the VIPs moved through the club. Savanhi was on the catwalk above the private room, listening to the roar of shouts and watching the shaded, diamond-dripped men move through the crowd like they owned the space. Until she caught the jorts and hard bottom shoes, Sincere’s signature look, and then... the massive man she happily climbed the night before.
“Fuhhhhhck,” she hissed sharply, turning around like he could see her. She started to move her heeled feet to the stairs, only for Viv to appear and look up at her like she had three heads.
“Where the fuck you think you going?”
“I need some water,” Savanhi lied.
“Drink after you finish. Shit, I’ll even bring you shots and whatever else you want. Those muhfuckas just came in here with six duffle bags to break down.Six. You count that and tell me you still thirsty.”
“Six?”
“Six. You know how much you taking home tonight? Turn your ass around and put on a show.”
“Can I have a mask? Please?” Savanhi asked, forcing herself to mask the anxiety she couldn't justify but couldn't shake.
Viv looked her up and down. “Fine. Only because you were requested.”
She hurried off and returned with a rhinestone mask that covered her eyes and nose. Her full, pouty lips were on full display. That, and other identifying factors. Viv snapped her fingers and pointed to the overhead speakers. The L.O.-Style trill beat over a southern-style beat set the environment for a sultry move. The smoke machine filling the red-light room.
“That’s the sound of money. Do your shit.”
Savanhi secured the mask, took a deep breath, and locked in with what she needed to do. She squatted to spin down the pole. The moment she dropped into their view, the conversation quieted.
Her spin was controlled with the tempo of the music, hair swinging, creating the illusion they were paying for. Savanhi halted her glide down mid-pole to spin and grind. Back up as she shook her thighs, making her ass clap. Knocking her heels together, she used every available second on the pole out of reach before the song faded into a more hip-hop beat that required her to bounce and twerk her ass.
Money wasn’t thrown in the private rooms. Everything was paid up front. The drinks, the drugs of choice, the entertainment, and for all the other women’s services. Savanhi made it clear when she roamed into the club two years ago that she wasn’t a whore and no one inside or outside would be expecting her pussy as an incentive.
As she danced, her eyes were drawn to Noble. He sat coolly, his hands on his legs, watching her every movement. Neither of them could see the other’s eyes, but the energy they’d been warped in the night before was back in full force. Sincere caught a glimpse of Noble being captivated. He was happily being held hostage by his captor, and he wouldn’t dare find a way out.
Savanhi should’ve been flattered, but there was a part of her that was ashamed. That, on top of what Zay had said, really was a heavy mix to navigate through. But like everything else, she pressed on, providing an experience no other dancer could provide. After all, that’s what she lived to do – dance, entertain, use the stage as her form of therapy.
Six straight songs she danced through before Sincere moved to the deejay and whispered something and pointed to Noble. Tempt ran like a smooth-oiled machine. Viv didn’t care about what you did in the locker room – on her stages, you were going to work and do that shit effortlessly.
When he took his seat, the door opened, and three other dancers entered. The deejay nodded toward the exclusive room off the side. Savanhi faded into the darkness and walked to the back door, finding Viv again, with a bottle of water.
“Here. Deuce is home his dance needs to be private. No mask.”
“What?”
“He’s requested no mask. Take it off. Give him what he paid for. I already forged your signature on the NDA.”
Savanhi rolled her eyes. “What makes him so special?”
“That’s the MLB’s MVP. He’s playing for the Royals, and you know those niggas got to be as close to Jesus as they can get. What happens in there stays. Understood?”
She nodded, accepting the bottle of water and a towel. “How long is this?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Alright.” Savanhi walked down the hall, pausing at the door to take a deep breath before entering.
Her music played, but the chair Noble should’ve been in was empty. She chose to dance anyway, hoping he wouldn’t interrupt. The door opened, he roamed in, sat, and watched quietly for five minutes before speaking.
“Come here.”
Savanhi pushed her hair out of her face. “I have rules.”
